


Important Stuff

by Johannas_Motivational_Insults



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, set near the end of 4x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27680948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johannas_Motivational_Insults/pseuds/Johannas_Motivational_Insults
Summary: Claire decides to check up on Morgan after they debrief her patient, and she gets a lot more than she bargained for.
Relationships: Claire Browne/Morgan Reznick
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Important Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Got this idea while driving yesterday and it would not go away until I wrote it. I haven't written a lot for this ship, but Morgan gave me a lot of feelings in 4x03 (especially the line I stole the title from) and there were some brief shots of Claire looking concerned that I wish we'd gotten to see expanded upon. So let's call this a missing scene... and maybe a little more. ;)

Claire hustles through the halls of St. Bonaventure, alertly sweeping the scene for any signs of a certain tall blonde she last saw ten minutes ago. Spotting an upcoming nurses’ station, she almost stumbles as she slams on the brakes and decelerates to a painfully slow walk. Even now that they’ve lost Petringa, there’s still plenty of middle-aged biddies more than willing to chew out a young surgeon around here. (Not to speak ill of the dead or anything. That’s just who she was, and they all loved her for it.)

Once she’s out of sight, Claire picks up the pace again as she closes in on the locker room. She knows she has to get to the lounge soon enough, she’s supposed to meet Shaun and Park to make a final decision about the interns, but something about Morgan’s demeanor when they were debriefing her patient left Claire on edge.

Resignation, that’s what it was. It’s not something Claire’s used to seeing from Morgan, not at all. And pain. Definitely pain. The sight of someone in pain always makes Claire want to comfort them — her overactive empathy is her greatest strength or most cumbersome weakness, depending on who you ask — but the fact that it’s _Morgan_ somehow strengthens that pull, weirdly enough.

The locker room is Claire’s first guess as to where to find her former colleague, as it’s a good place to go to decompress (or break down) in private. If that fails, she’ll start checking random stairwells next. God knows Claire’s taken advantage of those before.

When Claire crashes through the door, she’s greeted by the sounds of furtive sniffling and rustling. Following the telltale noises, she rounds the corner and finds Morgan sitting in front of her open locker, shoulders hunched and elbows on her knees. She’s changed into civies, her used scrubs discarded on the bench along with several crumpled tissues.

Claire’s heart clenches, a sharp pain shooting through her chest. “Morgan?”

Barely dignifying the greeting with a glance over her shoulder, Morgan sighs dramatically, like Claire is the absolute bane of her existence or something. It’s business as usual and stopped being offensive a long time ago — it’s actually kind of endearing on good days — but it still manages to hurt. Just a little.

“Great,” she grumbles, turning away as she swipes furiously at her cheeks. “Just what I need.”

Choosing to ignore the active hostility, Claire edges closer, hands furling in the pockets of her lab coat. “Going home?”

Morgan scoffs. “You think Lim wants _my_ opinion on the interns?” she snarks, bending over to zip up her boots. “She’s made it very clear I don’t work for her anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” murmurs Claire.

Stiffening momentarily, Morgan dismisses this with a shake of her head and returns her attention to her boots. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who was being a bitch.”

“Yes, you were,” Claire agrees whole-heartedly. She doesn’t add ‘as usual,’ despite great temptation. Mouth twitching guiltily, she admits, “But I wasn’t being very considerate either.”

Morgan finally turns her head, meeting Claire’s gaze over her shoulder. The sight of her red-rimmed eyes draws Claire closer without any conscious thought.

“I didn’t consider how hard this must be for you,” continues Claire. Leaving a good foot and a half between them, she eases herself down onto the bench. “You poured your whole life into your dream of being a surgeon, even when your family didn’t support you. You fought the RA as long as you could, but you couldn’t fix it. Your dream slipped away from you, through no fault of your own.”

Well, maybe it is Morgan’s fault she chose to save that girl during the earthquake and cut short what was left of her career, but now doesn’t seem the time to bring that up. Instead, Claire twitches her mouth sympathetically and commiserates, “If that happened to me, I can’t even imagine how much it would hurt.”

“Is this you trying to make me feel better?” Morgan asks coldly, though a heavy dose of incredulity seeps through that hard front.

Claire rolls her eyes. “My point is, Morgan, you’re grieving. And you have every right to, okay? You’re dealing with real, heartbreaking loss.” Suddenly unable to hold Morgan’s gaze, she looks down at her fingers twisting in the hem of her lab coat. “You were there for me when I was grieving my mother and I haven’t done anything to help you,” she confesses in a whisper. “That’s what I’m sorry for.”

When she gets the courage to look up, she finds Morgan staring at her, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. Claire can only stare for a long moment, so unaccustomed to this and entirely unprepared. Sure, she comforts crying people all the time, but Morgan? She doesn’t seem the type to react well to traditional forms of comfort, to say the least.

Throat bobbing conspicuously, Morgan nods in acknowledgement and chokes out, “Thank you.” Blinking away her tears, she turns her head to save herself a little dignity as she wipes her cheeks. It gives Claire a quick moment to process her shock and reset, settle on a strategy.

“But hey,” she says, punching Morgan’s shoulder lightly, “I think we both know you’re handling this way better than I did.” That makes Morgan chuckle, and Claire can’t help smiling at the intended effect.

“How do you know?” Morgan teases her, that trademark playful smirk making an appearance. “Maybe I’m having a parade of one-night stands too.”

“My mistake,” Claire says dryly, and Morgan gives her one last teasing look before disengaging, gathering the scrubs into her lap.

Claire could stop there. Maybe she should stop there. But she doesn’t want to.

She doesn’t want to leave Morgan’s side. She doesn’t want this moment to end. Maybe that’s selfish of her, but she indulges herself for once. Stretching out a hand, she rests her palm on Morgan’s back, luxuriating in the warmth radiating through her blouse. Morgan freezes at the contact, then turns her head to meet Claire’s gaze curiously.

“You’re so strong,” murmurs Claire, rubbing a thumb back and forth over the warm fabric. “Forging ahead, trying to find a new specialty. But you shouldn’t have to be that strong all the time.”

“I want to be,” declares Morgan, determination hardening her features. “Maybe I can’t be a hero anymore, but I won’t be a liability.”

“Impossible,” Claire says without thinking. She didn’t need to. “And for the record, you still do important stuff. Maybe it won’t be the way you planned, but you’re still going to save people’s lives, be their hero.”

Morgan looks away, throat bobbing once again, and Claire feels her own tighten in empathy. Swallowing down the pain, she reaches out to turn Morgan’s chin, gently demanding eye contact. “Morgan…” 

When Morgan acquiesces with a sigh, Claire finds the pain she expected in her eyes accompanied by an almost pleading look. But that slowly fades, morphing into curiosity. Morgan’s eyes narrow, darting around Claire’s face, and Claire is helpless but to stare. They really are so beautiful, downright magnetic from up close. She swallows, glazed eyes involuntarily flitting down to Morgan’s lips. When she catches herself and forces them back up, she finds Morgan staring at her in shock. 

The air suddenly feels uncomfortably warm and thick, and Claire kind of wants to bolt but she’s rooted to the spot under Morgan’s gaze. When Morgan’s eyes briefly dip down in reply, her heart stutters in her chest as sweat breaks out on her palms (which is kind of gross seeing as her hand is still resting on Morgan’s cheek). Morgan’s eyes meet hers again and her stomach somersaults at the sheer intention in them. Morgan’s lips are slipping open and Claire’s not sure if she’d rather Morgan yelled at her or kissed her but then she’s leaning in just a little and oh god…

Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Claire closes the remaining distance in a heartbeat. She startles just as hard as Morgan does at the sudden contact, but once the initial shock passes a certain level of instinct takes over and their lips begin to move tentatively. Morgan’s lips are soft against Claire’s and she really never thought she’d use the word ‘soft’ to describe Morgan Reznick but she was so wrong. Her lips are soft, her cheek is soft, her tongue is soft where it drags along Claire’s lip and Claire gasps in surprise. Morgan uses the opening to probe a little deeper, brushing against Claire’s tongue and procuring a very undignified moan that Claire would completely deny she ever made if Morgan dared to mention it in public.

Finally overcoming her own paralysis, Claire responds in kind and flicks her tongue against Morgan’s, deepening the kiss. She strokes Morgan’s cheekbone with her thumb, fingertips curling behind her jaw to draw her in closer. Morgan sighs into the kiss and Claire’s chest aches as her heart seems to swell and push against her ribcage. She could do this forever.

When Morgan pulls back several moments later, Claire can’t help the tiny whine that leaves her lips as her eyelids flutter open in confusion. She finds Morgan shaking her head sharply, blinking hard. Finally an uneasy chuckle leaves Morgan’s lips and she cocks her head, giving Claire a look that is probably supposed to be demeaning but really just comes off as sad.

“This isn’t something you can kiss better, Saint Claire,” she says, mouth twitching wistfully. “But thanks for the thought.”

“I wanted to,” Claire says instinctively, surprising even herself. Her eyes narrow and drop as she considers this. Chuckling inwardly after a moment, she blinks back up, lower lip sucking in between her teeth. “I think I’ve wanted to for a while, actually.”

Morgan’s eyes bulge and Claire tries to keep a straight face as she begins screaming at herself internally. That was the worst thing she could have possibly said. Now Morgan’s gonna think she’s a creep and it’s gonna be awkward and-

“Yeah, me too,” mutters Morgan.

Claire’s thoughts screech to a halt and she stares wide-eyed at the prickly blonde suddenly avoiding her gaze. “Really?”

Morgan rolls her eyes. “False humility doesn’t look good on you, Claire. You know how pretty you are.”

“No, I just mean…” Claire shakes her head in a pathetic attempt to clear it. “I didn’t know you liked women.”

“I like _you_ ,” Morgan specifies. She says it with conviction, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in her tone and her suddenly distant eyes. Claire can sense there’s more to it than that, but she doesn’t press. She’s too distracted by the grin spreading unbidden across her face.

“Never thought I’d say this, but I like you too, Morgan.” An ancient memory strikes her and she chuckles, out loud this time. “And you said we weren’t gonna be friends.”

Morgan leans back into her space, stealing Claire’s laughter and confidence with her imposing height. She’s only emboldened by the way Claire’s eyes widen, a predatory smile growing on her face. “We’re not friends.”

A broken, breathy chuckle leaves Claire’s lips and she lifts her hand again, tracing the delicate features of Morgan’s face. “So I’m allowed to do this?” she asks, firing off a cheeky wink as she leans in. And maybe Morgan likes being in charge, but she doesn’t object to the forwardness. She kisses Claire right back, one hand curling around her back and the other tangling in her chestnut curls. Happiness and peace flood through Claire’s veins as she melts under Morgan’s touch, sighing into her mouth.

Shaun and Park can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah yeah, in my last one shot I didn't have them kiss or anything so this is just me being totally self-indulgent. (This whole fic is just me being totally self-indulgent, but y'know.) Hopefully we get a real first kiss one day that renders this obsolete, but until then welp I guess this is it.


End file.
